


we're gonna bury this town tonight

by trishapocalypse



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Spanking, Spanking Kink, idk man dj!nick and model!harry have my heart right now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-08
Updated: 2013-06-08
Packaged: 2017-12-14 09:05:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/835149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trishapocalypse/pseuds/trishapocalypse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Nick is a DJ in charge of all these parties and Harry is the pretty new model that Nick wouldn't mind having on his knees once, twice, or fifteen times.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we're gonna bury this town tonight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pastlives](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pastlives/gifts).



> This is for my darling Tari because I adore her. And also for Sam because I also adore her. (These ladies are perfect, I swear.) The usual: this didn't happen, hastily beta'd, my first attempt at a "spanking fic/kink" so if I ruined it, I am so, so sorry. I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> tumblr: @trishanthemum :)

Nick was used to DJing these gigs. Everyone in the public relations field automatically called on him whenever the new model du jour finished their first big shoot, got a cover, got a big advert, or whenever the hip new pop star got a number one single, or whenever… Well, just whenever, really. Nick was _used_ to these gigs, the strobe lights and black lights and tacky glow sticks that everyone seemed to enjoy. 

(Of course he tried to remember that most of the people these parties were being thrown for were probably ten years his junior, so, that might’ve had something to do with it.)

(But, seriously, _glow sticks_? It was ridiculous.)

Nick was used to the teenagers stumbling around, excited for their first big break, excited to be getting completely smashed with all the hip celebrities and socialites and the sort. He was so used to it, in fact, that the new name of the week didn’t even register with him anymore. He was less concerned with _who_ he was DJing a party for and more concerned with how long it would last until he could get smashed and find a pretty little model to take home and have suck him off, only to kick him out in the morning and do it all over again. 

(That was just Nick’s _thing_ , after all. He didn’t mind DJing the parties because it almost always meant taking home some pretty young boy who was really eager to please and that, that was just his type.)

And this party, it wasn’t even an exception. It was at some hip club in London, celebrating some huge shoot for the new model of the month. (Nick didn’t even know his name and he couldn’t say that he even cared.) Nick was holed up behind his laptop, a bottle of beer in hand, headphones around his neck, as he watched everyone on the dance floor. 

By midnight, Nick was ready for his break, and he made his way towards the bar to get another beer. He met up with Kate, Alexa, and Cara, who were laughing and drinking whatever fruity drink the bartender decided was _in_ that night, and he jumped up on a barstool. 

“How are my favorite ladies tonight?”

Cara rolled her eyes. “Can’t have your adoring fanbase know you have favorites, now can you, Grimmy?” she teased.

Nick grinned around his beer bottle. “Don’t think you’ll be tellin’ anyone, yeah?”

“She might not, but I could,” Kate told him.

Nick rolled his eyes. “So, who’s this party for, anyway?”

“His name’s Harry,” Cara announced. “He just finished a huge shoot that’s going to be in Vogue—“

Nick scoffed, taking a sip of his beer. “Are you takin’ the piss?”

“He’s quite a big deal,” Kate said, defensive. 

“Don’t see the big deal about some new male model,” Nick said with a shrug. “Just another pretty face.”

“Have you actually seen his pretty face though?” Cara asked, arching an eyebrow.

Nick shook his head.

Cara nodded over Nick’s shoulder, waving her hand in a small wave.

Nick turned to see whom she was waving at and, okay. Harry had a pretty face, bright green eyes, and a head full of chocolate curls that Nick wouldn’t mind having between his legs. But, it wasn’t a big deal. Models were _supposed_ to have a pretty face. Nick had met (and bed) enough models to know that a pretty face didn’t necessarily mean shit. He finished his beer, grabbing another, and he started walking back towards his booth when he stopped. Harry had found his way over to Cara, Alexa, and Kate, pressing his pretty lips quickly to Cara’s cheek and, no, Nick had to find out what the big deal was. He walked back over to his friends, resting his forearm on the back of Alexa’s barstool, and his eyes landed on Harry.

“Nick, this is Harry,” Alexa introduced. “Nick’s the DJ.”

“Yeah?” Harry asked, eyes wide. “You’re good, mate.”

“Thanks,” Nick said with a nod. “So all of this—“ he motioned towards the lights, the crowd, the drinks, everything, “—is for you?”

Harry ducked his head, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I mean—“

“Now what’s so special about you?” Nick asked, a teasing smile on his face.

Cara leaned over and slapped Nick’s shoulder. “Play nice.”

“I am!” Nick insisted.

“No, it’s alright, Cara,” Harry said before turning back to Nick. “I mean, nothing’s that special about me, really—“

“Right,” Nick said with a nod, taking in Harry’s flushed cheeks, wide smile, big green eyes and no, there was definitely something _special_ about him. 

“Don’t sell yourself short, Harry,” Kate told him, reaching over to rub his forearm. “You’re going to be in _Vogue_ , Harry—“

Harry’s blush deepened and Nick couldn’t ignore it, not even in the dark light of the club. “I got lucky, is all,” he insisted, taking a sip of his drink. 

“Probably,” Nick agreed and he quickly finished his beer, setting it down on top of the bar. “Gotta get back to the booth. See you in a bit.”

“It was nice to meet you,” Harry told him sincerely, reaching out for his hand.

Nick paused briefly before taking Harry’s hand in his own. “Same,” he replied before going to walk back to his booth.

“Wait!” Harry said, following him until he ended up right by Nick’s computer. “Will I—I mean, do you get another break tonight or—?”

“Probably not,” Nick said honestly. 

“Can I bring you another drink?” Harry asked.

Nick sighed, climbing behind his laptop and reaching for his headphones. “Another beer would be lovely.”

Harry smiled brightly and nodded, his curls bouncing as he headed back off towards the bar.

Nick laughed softly, shaking his head, before he got back to work.

 

+

 

Nick didn’t see Harry again that night. And actually, he didn’t see him for almost a month, until the next party. (Because, well, there was always a _next_ party.) Nick didn’t even bother learning who this party was for because he just didn’t care; the parties paid well, and he got free drinks, but other than that, he found himself rather ambivalent towards the whole _scene._

But, no, the party was for Harry again. And wow, wasn’t that a surprise all on its own? Two parties, two months, both for Harry and, yeah, that hadn’t happened in almost six months, not since Cara had a very successful three months (but Nick couldn’t even be mad about that because they were _friends_ after all). This time, Harry had forgone the gray Burberry blazer in favor of tight black jeans and a loose white shirt, brown boots and a grey fedora and, well. 

“Don’t, Nick.”

Nick froze, turning to face Cara. “Pardon?”

“I see how you’re eyeing Harry,” Cara told him. “And just—don’t.”

“I haven’t done anything.”

“He thinks you don’t like him.”

“Who says I _do_ like him?”

“That look in your eyes, maybe?” she suggested.

Nick rolled his eyes. “That indicates nothing other than finding him aesthetically pleasing.”

Cara scoffed. “ _Please._ ”

“What?” Nick asked with a laugh. 

“I know you like to have every pretty young new model on your arm—“

“Not on my _arm,_ no.”

Cara rolled her eyes. “Harry’s a good lad.”

“Okay.”

“So…don’t, okay?”

Nick smiled and pet Cara’s hair affectionately. “Don’t worry about me, Cara. You’ll get wrinkles.”

Cara elbowed him hard in the side and pushed him away. “Go do your DJ thing and get away from me.”

Nick nodded and signaled the bartender for a beer. “If you insist,” he said, sending her a gracious mock bow before scurrying off towards his laptop. He passed Harry, who sent him a wide smile and a big wave, and Nick just nodded before slipping behind his laptop. He hadn’t even planned on anything with Harry, not really, because two late-night wanks imagining his mouth was absolutely nothing, not really, but now that Cara had declared him off limits, Nick was starting to think that maybe Harry wasn’t that bad of an idea after all. 

And Harry was watching Nick all night; Nick tried not to notice, but it was obvious. And when Harry snuck up into the booth, pressing a beer into Nick’s hand with a wide, flirty smile on his lips, Nick just nodded. He shouldn’t have let Harry stay with him but he did, for a time, until he was ready for a break. Nick briefly thought about paying attention to what Cara said, maybe thinking it wasn’t such a bad idea to stay away from a seventeen-year-old male model with long eyelashes and longer legs, but he wasn’t immune to Harry’s charm. And by the time Harry brought him a third beer, Nick chose a playlist and grabbed Harry’s hand, leading him off towards the bar.

Cara eyed their hands over the top of her martini, narrowing her eyes and she frowned at Nick. “Grimmy…” she sighed.

Nick dropped Harry’s hand and sat down on the barstool, taking a sip of his beer, raising his eyebrows. “Cara,” he mimicked with an exaggerated sigh. 

Harry sidled up against Nick. “Is this a thing you two do?” he asked. 

Cara shook her head. “No, Grimmy knows what it’s for.”

“Yeah, the disapproving tone gave it away,” Nick drawled. “Cara likes to play mummy from time to time.”

Cara slapped his arm. “Don’t be an arse.”

Nick laughed.

Harry smiled and reached for Nick’s beer bottle, sliding it out of his hand and taking a drink. When he caught Nick staring at him with wide eyes, he smiled softly. “What?”

Nick shook his head. “Nothing. Do you want your own?”

“No, yours is the perfect temperature,” Harry said before taking another drink and handing it back to him. 

“You two are disgusting,” Cara muttered, rolling her eyes before standing up and walking away.

Nick laughed and shook his head slowly. “What was that?” he asked Harry.

Harry shrugged. “How much time do you have left on your break?” he asked, resting a hand on Nick’s thigh and turning to stand in front of him. 

“As long as I want,” Nick told him, shifting in the barstool, causing Harry to stand directly between his thighs.

“Yeah?”

Nick nodded. “Something on your mind, Harold?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I hate being called that.”

“Sorry,” Nick told him.

Harry knew he wasn’t sorry, he could tell, and he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth. 

“So…?”

“Hmm?”

“Something on your mind?” Nick repeated, reaching for Harry’s hips. 

Harry took a step closer, sliding his hands up Nick’s thighs and back down slowly. “Maybe. How do you normally spend your breaks?”

“However I want.”

“You’re so vague,” he muttered.

Nick smiled. “You have something in mind?”

Harry nodded, gripping Nick’s belt loops and taking a step back, pulling him up. “Got a couple of things in mind. If you’re up for it?” he added.

Nick grinned. “I could be persuaded.”

And that was how Nick ended up in the handicapped stall of the loo on his break, Harry’s fingers digging into the back of his thighs, his lips stretched around the base of Nick’s cock. But it was easily the best way to spend his break, so he wasn’t going to complain. He could feel the base of some Usher song through the wall, against his back, and Harry’s nose was pressed against his stomach and, _fuck._ Nick buried his fingers in the mess of curls at the base of Harry’s neck, his hips thrusting forward as he came, biting his bottom lip to hold back a moan because he was almost positive they weren’t alone in the loo, and he really didn’t care. 

Harry sat back on his heels, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand.

Nick tucked himself back into his jeans and stepped out of the stall, relieved to see that they _were_ alone. As he was fixing his quiff in the mirror, Harry appeared next to him, a sheepish smile on his face.

“Do you want to get a drink?” Harry asked quietly, starting to wash his hands slowly.

“Gotta get back to the booth.”

“Oh.”

Nick’s eyes fell on Harry’s crotch and he tried not to be too pleased to see that he was hard and, really, he wanted to help with that, he _did_ , but he also had to get back to his actual job, so. 

“Next time?” Harry asked.

Nick hesitated but found himself nodding. “Sure. Next time, kid.”

 

+

 

The next party was for someone named Zayn, who had impossible cheekbones and golden eyes and Nick wasn’t surprised to hear this kid was a model because he just had the _look._ He was also, as it turned out, a bit of an arrogant arse. Not that Nick minded because, well, he could be an arrogant arse at times, too, but he had almost ten years on Zayn, so he felt like he had the right. 

(He didn’t, but that wasn’t the point.)

And Zayn, he was the life of the party in a completely different way than Harry. Because people just seemed to gravitate towards Zayn’s complete antipathy for crowds, mistaking his disdain for conversation as dry wit and humor. But Harry, it wasn’t even his party and people were still revolving around him, plying him with drinks and asking for dances that he rarely ever indulged in. 

(Not that Nick was paying attention. He really wasn’t.)

Halfway through the night, Zayn approached Nick’s booth, clutching a beer bottle tightly in his hand. He leaned against the silver railing behind Nick, taking a sip from the bottle.

Nick glanced briefly back at him, tugging off his headphones, and raising his eyebrows.

Zayn leaned in, breath hot against his neck, requesting a song.

Nick nodded, resisting the urge to roll his eyes because, well, he was _hired_ for these gigs and it was strongly suggested (because that’s such a _nice_ way to say he had no choice but to play whatever these people wanted) that he honor the requests of the people that the party was being thrown for, so. He watched as Zayn stumbled onto the dance floor, grabbing Harry’s hand, and Nick changed songs. He was pretty sure that Zayn’s eyes lit up at the first beat of some Rihanna song as he started dancing against Harry and, well, maybe the song wasn’t such a bad idea after all. 

Maybe twenty minutes later, Harry joined him in the booth; two mixed drinks in hand, shoving one towards Nick.

Nick took a drink without bothering to ask what it was, because he was already buzzed and any alcohol was a good plan. He set the glass down, fiddling with his laptop for a few minutes, before he felt Harry tug at his belt loop. He barely glanced at him over his shoulder, holding up a finger, before looking back at his laptop and selecting a different playlist that he thought Zayn would enjoy the most. 

(He was pretty good at reading people and their music tastes by an hour into the gig, not that he was bragging or anything.)

Nick finished his drink as Harry slid an arm around his waist, and Nick allowed himself to be dragged towards the bathroom again. He was in a different club, one he didn’t play in that often, but he was relieved to see it was a single bathroom and Harry had locked the door behind them. When Harry went for Nick’s lips, he turned away on instinct, and he pretended not to notice the hurt look in Harry’s green eyes, but he couldn’t _help it._ Kissing was emotional, there was some sort of emotional attachment, and that’s not what Nick was after, no matter how pretty Harry’s lips were, Nick was sure his lips were prettier when they were around his cock. And Harry sank to his knees wordlessly, tugging open Nick’s pants, and when Nick came, he refused to let Harry’s name fall from his lips. Because he wasn’t going to let himself get attached, he refused, because Nick didn’t want a relationship, especially not a relationship with a young male model, because young male models were good for getting off and one-night-stands and that was it.

And if Nick felt his stomach twist a little bit as he left Harry alone in the bathroom, still hard, with the excuse of getting back to his DJ booth, well, he would deny it.

 

+

 

After Zayn, there was Liam, a ridiculously polite gentleman who thanked Nick profusely after practically every single song because the mix was just _so brilliant mate, thanks, truly._ And Nick couldn’t even hate him because he had big brown eyes, a kind smile, and was just so _nice._ And it was rare for Nick to actually like anyone at these parties; in fact, he even found himself avoiding Cara’s judgmental stares, especially since Harry seemed to have become her best friend overnight. It wasn’t as if Nick was avoiding Harry, though, he wasn’t; the curly haired lad still brought him multiple beers during his set, wide eyes and a flirty smile.

And Nick was content because there were no expectations, only he was starting to worry that maybe Harry had some expectations. Because during his break, Nick shared a dance with some Diesel model that he was almost positive he had taken home a few months previously but he had a vague memory of him being rather nice in bed, but the look Harry shot him was…too much. And if Nick abandoned the model he was dancing with when he saw Zayn drag Harry towards the dance floor, grinding their hips together in a way that should’ve been illegal for many reasons, in favor of retreating back to his booth with a frown on his face, well. 

It wasn’t a big deal, that’s what Nick kept telling himself. Because he owed Harry nothing, and Harry owed him nothing, and a couple of bathroom blow jobs didn’t mean _anything._ (Except Nick was starting to think that maybe they did.) But Harry joined him in his booth again soon enough, two beers in hand, wrapping an arm around Nick’s waist and pressing his lips against his neck. Nick may or may not have allowed Harry to pick a few songs before Harry was tugging on his belt, asking if he was taking another break.

And if Nick took an extra break that night to push Harry up against the wall in the bathroom before sinking to his knees, pulling his ridiculously tight jeans down his ridiculously long legs, bringing him off with quick suction and a fast tongue, well. It wasn’t as if Harry was complaining if the sound of his moans and pants, fingers pressing against Nick’s shoulder were indicative of how much he actually enjoyed it. Harry dragged Nick to his feet, pressing him against the wall, reaching for his belt, but Nick grabbed is wrists and pushed his hands away, shaking his head. 

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but he stopped himself. 

“Gotta get back,” Nick said, adjusting himself in his jeans and nodding towards the door.

Harry just nodded, frowning.

Nick almost reached for him—almost, but he didn’t, even though the sad look in Harry’s eyes was nearly enough to change his mind. _Nearly._ He settled for running his thumb briefly over Harry’s cheekbone, over his dimple, before leaving the bathroom, refusing to acknowledge the almost intimate gesture because, no, Nick didn’t do _intimacy._ (Even though a voice inside of his head was telling him that for Harry, maybe he could.)

 

+

 

And after Liam, it was some kid named Louis who had written, directed, and acted in his own screenplay and he was suddenly the toast of the town, the new darling who was itching for a big break. (Rumor had it he was auditioning for a role on Doctor Who but, well, what actor in London _wasn’t_? And Nick generally ignored rumors as a rule, anyway.) He was some loud mouth kid with a bright smile and a penchant for fruity drinks and any music he could dance to. He also, as it turned out, had a penchant for Harry, because there wasn’t a minute that the two of them weren’t attached at the hip or hand or lips. Maybe Louis was just really affectionate, maybe Harry was just clingy, or maybe they were both drunk but Nick wasn’t—No. 

It wasn’t as if Nick was bothered by Louis’ thin lips pressed against Harry’s neck, the way he smiled up at him, dragging him on and off of the dance floor, pushing drinks into his hand. No, he wasn’t. And Nick definitely didn’t miss Harry bringing him beers throughout the night, asking him to play certain songs, smiling up at him as if he was the king of the world or something. 

Actually, no, there was one point when Louis wasn’t attached to Harry, and it was when Zayn dragged him onto the dance floor. And Nick didn’t take his break at that time on purpose, no, and he also didn’t _mean_ to eavesdrop on Harry and Cara’s conversation (because apparently, they were still best friends), but he didn’t try to prevent it, either.

“He’s emotionally stunted, Harry, don’t let it bother you,” Cara told Harry, rubbing his back soothingly.

“I just don’t understand why he doesn’t want anything to do with me,” Harry said softly. “We get on great.”

“Grimmy doesn’t like to get attached to anything,” Cara said with a shrug. “It’s not personal.”

“Feels pretty personal to me,” he muttered. 

“Grimmy’s just—“

“What about me?” Nick asked, sliding an arm around the back of Harry’s barstool and fixing Cara with a smile.

“Grimmy’s just been avoiding all of us because he’s an arse,” Cara answered with a big grin. 

“Only a little,” Nick said with a shrug, nodding towards the bartender for a beer. He looked over at Harry. “Y’alright?”

Harry nodded, taking a sip of his drink.

“Whatcha drinking?”

Harry shrugged. “Something Louis created, s’a bit—“

“Bit wonderful,” Louis interrupted, walking over to Harry and pressing his lips against his cheek before he turned to face Nick. “You’re the DJ, yeah?”

“Yeah, m’Nick,” he said, holding out his hand.

Louis shook it slowly. “Harry, dance with me,” he insisted.

“Lou—“

Louis took the drink from Harry’s hand and downed it quickly, pulling him up off the stool. “It’s my party, Curly, are you really going to turn me down?”

Harry paused, glancing over at Nick who may or may not have been glaring at their joined hands. “I—“

“Actually, Harry normally spends my break with me,” Nick interrupted.

Louis smiled softly. “Does he now?”

Nick nodded.

“It’s just one dance,” Louis said. “I’m sure Harry wouldn’t mind—“

“Maybe you should ask him,” Cara interrupted, “considering he’s right there and you lot are talkin’ about him as if he’s not in the room.”

Nick nodded. “She’s right. Harry?”

Harry hesitated, shifting from foot to foot, looking between Louis and Nick, and he had two options. He could dance with Louis, have some drinks, have a good time, potentially have a nice snog against the wall, or he could go with Nick, and whatever would happen _there_ was anyone’s guess. “I do normally spend Nick’s break with him,” Harry found himself saying quietly.

Nick smiled, only a little bit smug.

“And what do you two do on this ‘break’ of his?” Louis asked, still holding onto one of Harry’s hands. 

“Not really any of your business, is it?” Nick asked.

“Just curious,” Louis said with a shrug.

Nick laughed. “Don’t be.”

“Save me a dance for when you get back?” Louis asked Harry, who nodded slowly. “I better like your mix that you put on while you’re gone, Mister DJ.”

“You will,” Nick assured him.

“Will I?”

Nick shrugged. “S’part of my job and all. We’ll be back,” he told them, kissing Cara on the cheek before grabbing Harry’s hand and dragging him towards the back of the club. He knew the club they were at pretty well, and he did not trust the bathroom at all, so the alley behind the club was the best place to get a little bit of privacy. He nudged open the door, keeping it cracked with one of the empty liquor cartons, and he pulled Harry towards the far end of the alley. He crowded Harry against the wall, reaching for his belt buckle, only to discover that Harry’s face was still and borderline emotionless. “Y’alright?”

Harry shrugged. “M’fine.”

“No, you’re not,” Nick said with a heavy sigh. “I know I’m going to regret this, but—what’s wrong?”

Harry shrugged again. “Nothing. Just—do whatever you want,” he told him with a weak wave of his hand.

Nick rolled his eyes. “I’m not doing anything if you’re not into it, Harry. I’m not going to force you.”

“How kind,” he muttered. 

Nick ran a hand over his face, through his quiff, before resting it on the brick wall to the right of Harry’s head. “Talk to me,” he told him. And he didn’t know when he started actually _caring_ about what was wrong with Harry, but. Wow, he was actually _asking_ what was wrong and, when did that happen?

“Is this all I am to you?” Harry asked suddenly, his voice dropping. “Because I—I—I like you, and—“

“You barely know me,” Nick interrupted.

Harry sighed. “I _know._ I’m mental,” he shrugged. “But I _do_ and this—I’m not this guy, Nick. You’re fit and—and gorgeous and wicked with your mouth but you won’t even kiss me and—“

Nick wasn’t sure why he leaned forward and pressed his lips briefly against Harry’s. It definitely wasn’t because of the sad look on Harry’s face or his wide, sad green eyes, no. It was… Well, he didn’t know what it was, but when he pulled away Harry was smiling, wrapping his arms around Nick’s waist, tugging him closer. “Better?” Nick asked after a few seconds.

Harry nodded. “It was alright,” he said with a shrug.

Nick laughed, shaking his head. “You’re something else,” he muttered. 

“I want you to take me out.”

Nick’s eyes widened. “You do?”

Harry nodded before he felt his cheeks flush. “I mean, if you want to. I don’t want you to, like, take me out if you don’t want to, you know? Only if it means something to you, too, because… I like you,” Harry concluded with a weak shrug. 

Nick hesitated for a minute, maybe two, noting how worried Harry looked and he found himself agreeing. “Yeah, alright.”

“Yeah?” Harry asked, his grin widening. “You want to take me out?”

“Sure,” Nick told him. “It can’t be all that bad, yeah?”

Harry scoffed. “Wow, that’s. Thanks.”

Nick laughed softly. “Harry, if I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t agree to it.”

“But Cara said you don’t date—“

“Been talkin’ to Cara about me?”

Harry froze, shaking his head quickly. “No! No, not exactly—“

Nick cut him off with a quick kiss. And Harry tugged him a little bit closer, pressing his hands into the back pockets of Nick’s jeans. And as strangely intimate as kissing Harry was, Nick didn’t _hate_ it. He usually tried to avoid kissing with his conquests/one-night-stands but Harry was… Well, shit, Harry was _different_ because Nick didn’t do repeats, and this was his fourth time with Harry, and normally Nick would feel himself trying to pull away, his brain screaming for him to find someone _new_ but he didn’t _want_ someone new. He wanted Harry. And if he and Harry didn’t even get off during his break, even if they just leaned against the wall kissing as if they had all the time in the world, Nick wasn’t complaining. And by the time Harry found Louis again in the club, a dark marked sucked onto the side of his neck causing Louis’ eyes to widen and cling more to Zayn than to Harry, well. Nick couldn’t exactly say he wasn’t pleased.

 

+

 

Two months and two more events for Harry later and someone else was finally in the spotlight—two lads by the name of Niall and Ed who had a certain proclivity for acoustic guitars and sad songs and deep voices that drew in the ladies and sent them up the charts. They were basically overnight sensations, though they’d been in the scene, working their way up for almost two years, working menial jobs to pay for studio time to self-produce an EP that had Sugarscape breathing down their neck with promises of contracts and tours and photo shoots and whatever else they wanted. Niall was loud and boisterous, drinking pint after pint, and Ed was softer spoken, nursing a couple of beers and nodding appreciatively towards Nick with everyone song that played that he enjoyed. 

Harry barely left Nick’s booth except to get them fresh beers and to chat briefly with his friends. And Nick found that he didn’t mind having Harry constantly around him. He was never the type to crave constant companionship, but he found himself looking forward to seeing Harry more than his actual DJ gig. 

And in the last two months Nick and Harry had been on a grand total of three dates, because their schedules were crazy, and Nick had gigs Thursday through Sunday, while Harry had most of his business Monday through Wednesday. But their three dates had consisted once of Italian, once of Thai, and once of a stir-fry Harry threw together while naked in his kitchen and that one, that one was Nick’s favorite. Harry had a knack for not wearing clothes if he wasn’t in public and Nick wasn’t going to complain, no matter how uncomfortable it was watching movies naked on Harry’s leather couch, because it usually ended in him carrying Harry off towards the bedroom anyway. 

But this party was different because halfway through, Ed and Niall took the stage, leaving Nick to do whatever he wanted for at least thirty minutes. And that was a godsend, because Harry instantly pulled him towards Ed and Niall’s dressing room (because of course Harry was friends with _everyone_ and could charm his way into any situation), locking the door behind them, and dragging Nick on top of him on the little red couch. His feet were hanging off the armrest as Nick dragged his tight jeans down his thighs and Harry fisted his fingers in Nick’s quiff, ignoring the glare he received. 

And Nick found himself three fingers deep in Harry’s arse, lips tight around the base of his cock, swallowing around him as Harry came, chanting his name, before pulling away. Nick pushed Harry’s hands away when they reached for his belt loop, silencing him with a kiss and pulling him off the couch. Harry pulled up his pants and jeans, falling against Nick’s chest with a happy little sigh, and Nick wrapped his arms around Harry’s thin waist, marveling at how perfectly they fit together. 

Harry’s head fit against the crook of Nick’s neck, and Nick practically enveloped him entirely; Harry wasn’t small by any means but he was tiny compared to Nick, perfectly compact in the way they fit against one another, and Nick wanted nothing more than to take him back to his flat, but he actually had priorities that weren’t sex, and he knew he had to focus on that. And as Harry slipped out the door in front of him, Nick slapping his arse, he noticed the way Harry glared at him, a flush high in his cheeks, biting his bottom lip, and he pulled him in for another kiss. 

What started out as Nick not wanting to kiss Harry at all ended up with him never wanting to stop.

 

+

 

Nick had Harry naked and flat on his back within three minutes of returning to his flat. Their boots were discarded by the door, jackets and jeans somewhere across the living room, shirts and pants on the bedroom floor, and Harry was _beautiful_ spread out across Nick’s sheets. His cheeks were flushed, eyes wide as Nick kissed down the length of his body, running his tongue across his hipbone, causing Harry to shudder beneath him. Harry fisted his fingers in the fabric of the pillowcase as Nick opened him up slowly with his fingers and his tongue, Harry’s hips thrusting off of the mattress.

Nick held him down at the hips, connecting their lips, and he allowed Harry to take control, if only for a brief amount of time. Harry surged toward him as best as he could, tangling his fingers in Nick’s hair, their tongues sliding together. Harry moaned against him, whimpering when Nick pushed him down against the bed, reaching over towards the nightstand to pull out a condom and sliding it on. Harry reached for Nick again, but Nick grabbed his wrists, holding them against the mattress.

“Nick—“

“Sshh,” Nick whispered, fitting their fingers together, palms flush, as he slid into him slowly.

Harry arched his back, attempting to raise his hips but Nick thrust into him quickly, bottoming out, pressing their hips together, and ensuring that Harry couldn’t move against him. Nick rocked against him slowly, moving his hips in small circles, watching as Harry’s leaking cock bounced against the flat planes of his stomach. Nick watched in pure fascination, even admiration, at the way Harry’s bright green eyes slipped shut, allowing himself to surrender to pleasure as Nick fucked him slowly. He took his time, memorizing the feel of Harry around him, memorizing the way his muscles twitched in his stomach, memorizing the gasps that left his lips as Nick hit his spot, the way his long fingers tightened around Nick’s hands. 

“Nick—“ Harry gasped, his curls matted across his forehead.

“Wait,” Nick said, releasing Harry’s hands so he could run his fingertips across the tattoos littering his chest.

Harry twitched as Nick grazed over his nipples. “Nick, please—“

“Turn over,” Nick instructed, pulling away from Harry.

Harry whimpered at the loss of contact and allowed Nick to help him turn over, resting on his knees and forearms as he felt Nick slide back into him. He gasped at the change of angle, Nick striking the little bundle of nerves, and his left hand clenched in the sheets, his right hand reaching for his leaking cock.

“Don’t touch yourself,” Nick told him, playfully slapping Harry’s arse.

Harry moaned loudly, instantly pushing back against Nick’s hips.

Nick hesitated, forgetting that he didn’t want Harry to touch himself, and he slapped his arse again, thrusting back into him, and Harry clenched around him tightly. 

Harry tightened his fingers around himself, his back arching and his head dropping forward. “More, Nick, more—I—fuck—“ he panted.

Nick nodded because, _oh,_ that was—that was different and unexpected, but he could get on board with that. He gripped Harry’s hip tightly as he fucked him harder, deeper, alternating his thrusts with quick slaps, but not too much because even though he loved the way Harry’s pale skin was darkening to a deep, angry red, he didn’t want to _hurt_ him. 

“Nick—“ Harry gasped as he started to jerk himself quickly, knowing he was close. “Harder, Nick, I’m not gonna break,” he panted, trying to push back against him. “Please—“

Nick cut him off with a loud slap, causing Harry to cry out brokenly, and Nick bit back a moan because, hell, the sounds that Harry could make were positively pornographic. And there was no way someone should be as attractive as Harry in any way, it was almost too much for Nick. He sped up a little bit, grunting when Harry kept pushing back against him, encouraging curses leaving his lips, and Harry clenched around him tightly, spilling over his fist. Nick gripped Harry’s hips with both of his hands, thrusting quickly and holding him in place as he came, gasping.

Harry instantly collapsed on the bed, panting heavily, pushing the curls away from his forehead.

Nick slid out of him, disposing of the condom in the rubbish bin by his bed, before lying down next to Harry. 

Harry turned his head, smiling towards Nick, the flush still high in his cheeks.

“Did I hurt you?” Nick asked, voice uncharacteristically soft as his eyes fell on Harry’s red bum, and he instinctively reached out to rub his hand over it.

Harry giggled against the pillow, blushing even deeper at the sound that left his own lips, and he shook his head. “No. I mean, I—I liked it,” he said quietly.

Nick nodded and leaned down, pressing soft kisses against the red, inflamed skin and he heard Harry giggle again. He smiled against Harry’s skin, kissing over the marks he left before letting Harry pull him up again. Harry curled around him, tangling their limbs together, and Nick ran his fingertips over Harry’s bum. “At least you’re still pretty,” Nick muttered.

“Thanks,” he responded with a soft giggle, his curls brushing against Nick’s neck.

Nick laughed loudly as Harry giggled against his neck; he’d never met someone who actually _giggled_ after sex, someone who was actually beyond adorable while doing so. “You sure I didn’t hurt you?” Nick normally didn’t care; he’d divulged in a fair amount of kinks with previous partners and he never cared about hurting them, but Harry—he cared. 

“Positive,” Harry said, sighing against his neck. “Maybe we could do it again?”

“If you want, I could be on board,” Nick told him.

“Good. Best boyfriend ever,” Harry said with a nod, tightening his hold around Nick’s waist and pretending not to notice the way Nick stilled against him.

“Boyfriend?”

Harry nodded again. “Yup. Is—Is that alright?”

Nick hesitated for a minute but he found himself nodding, pressing his lips against Harry’s forehead. “Yeah, that’s alright.”


End file.
